If We Ever Meet Again
by Malina Wilwarin
Summary: Can one adventure change a life? If there's a Doctor involved, oh yes it can.
1. Chapter 1

If We Ever Meet Again

Disclaimer: I own nothing. All glory to the BBC.

Notes: If you're a reader from "The Muse Errant," welcome. If you're reading this first, welcome also. I've been a dedicated Whovian since 2005 (yes I know, just like the rest of the world, but I went back to watch the awful American movie and the old series as well) and I traditionally write these chapters while wearing my own handmade Baker scarf. Because I'm just that much of a geek. Please enjoy!

Chapter One

It was a sunny September morning. London was filled with activity; the hustle and bustle of the work day had begun before the sun was even roused enough to peek his shining face over the horizon. Massive amounts of tea and coffee driving them on, the populace threw themselves into Thank-God-It's-Friday with abandon. Some dreamed of grandiose plans for the weekend, others merely of sleeping in and spending a quiet day at home.

Downtown, a few streets over from a busy bus terminal and several department stores, a small cafe was already knee-deep in customers. Waitstaff darted to and fro as the clientele jockeyed for position at the host station. Out on the patio, tray in one hand, coffee pot in the other, Evelyn Graham was pretty sure her feet were about to fall off.

Well, not really. They'd been ready to fall off this morning after her overnight double. Now they were a bread shortage away from rising in open revolt and dragging her to the guillotine like some erstwhile French queen.

Also, she was pretty sure she was losing what little sanity a hectic schedule and a few especially obnoxious customers hadn't already stripped away.

She'd been working at the Ivy Crown for over a year now, having come to London as an exchange student and fallen in love with the city. Aspirations of a part in a West End musical and a possible stage career had been entertained. After graduation, a work visa, an overseas move, and a very long year of scraping by on dwindling savings, it must be confessed that the romance had somewhat gone out of the idea. Six months of fruitless auditions and nearly losing her small flat when she couldn't pay the rent had seen to that.

She was tired, sore, nearly broke, getting slightly discouraged, and...oh yes, losing her mind. Because as long as she'd been at the Ivy Crown, she was damn near certain there hadn't been a blue Police Box sitting on the corner opposite.

It had first caught her attention two days before, when an odd pulsing mechanical wheeze had startled her away from her lunch break. Odder still was the fact that she hadn't seen the blue box until several hours later, following a persistant feeling that something was off and lots of staring. Then suddenly, there it had been, like the spaceship hidden in one of those Magic Eye pictures she and her friends used to give themselves headaches trying to decipher.

A steady stream of customers helped take her mind off things. Hard to dwell on your problems when you're trying to be bright and cheerful, after all. And speaking of things that take a while to notice...

Had that fellow in the leather jacket been there a minute ago? Impossible to tell, really. Couldn't have been too long, he didn't have that agitated "why hasn't someone waited on me yet?" look. Then again, he was frowning rather intently at a small electronic device, so he might not have noticed the lapse. Oh well. Evelyn smiled off the last of her regulars and scurried over.

"Good morning, what can I get you?"

"What?" The man blinked up at her briefly, then gave a large slightly dopey grin that seemed to stretch the entire distance between his rather large ears. "Oh, nothing for me, thanks. Just sitting." And it was right back to the electronic device, which was now beeping irritably. "Oh don't do that. We both know it's here somewhere. You said it was close a moment ago, don't give me that."

"Um..." Evelyn put in. "Hate to interrupt, but..."

"Then don't."

Oh now, really.

"It's a cafe. If you want to sit here, you need to place an order. Otherwise it makes the management flustered and stern. And I don't like it when they're flustered and stern. They say bad things then, mostly about cutting my hours. So...cup of tea?"

"Er..." The man patted the pockets of his leather jacket, which, now seen closer to, was considerably well-loved. Actually, that was putting it nicely. It looked more like someone had taken a bat to it, then dragged the seams over a few hundred yards of sandpaper. The dopey grin took on an imploringly sheepish quality. "How much for a glass of water?"

Oh dear.

"Water's free, actually."

"Oh good! Water then, thanks." The electronic device made a rude noise and all the small twinkling lights shut off. "No, no no no no! Blasted thing!" He dropped it on the table and sat back, glaring. "Well, I'm not getting you anything."

At a loss, Evelyn made her way back into the kitchen, retrieved the water, and went about her business. The morning passed with a blessed absence of difficulty. The man in the jacket did little aside from order a few refills and mutter darkly at his recalcitrant machine. Around 11:00, his woes were interrupted by the clink of a cup and saucer and the sound of the World's Most Patient Server clearing her throat.

"Thought you could use this," she said, setting a cup of tea at his elbow. He frowned as the rest of the service was transferred from tray to table.

"I didn't order that."

"I know. It's on me." She settled herself into the chair opposite. "Morning break. Any luck with that?" A nod to the infernal device.

"I just don't know what's wrong with it." Scowling, he fished what looked like a laser pointer/fountain pen hybrid from his pocket and prodded the device with it. "It was working before. Blasted thing. Sorry."

Evelyn shrugged. "I've heard worse in the kitchen." She sipped her own tea. After another minute or so, the man in the jacket dropped the still-silent device onto the table and reached for his tea.

"So how about these new modern art projects, huh?" Awkward, yes, but making conversation seemed like the thing to do.

"Modern art?" The man arched his eyebrow at her over the rim of his mug. Evelyn gestured with her own to the blue mystery box across the square.

"The blue box over there." Her tablemate spluttered into his tea.

"You can see that?"

"Well...yeah. It's sitting there plain as day, isn't it?" Suddenly she noticed the gent had set down his tea and was looking at her rather intently.

"And you can see it?"

"I thought we'd already established that."

He looked as if he might say more, but out of nowhere, the much-beleaguered box began to blink, buzz, and beep in earnest. The man grabbed the box off the table, upsetting what was left of his tea down the front of Evelyn's apron.

"Sorry!" And off he dashed without the slightest hint of an explanation. Evelyn, having jumped up when lukewarm tea flooded her lap, stared after him with a mix of curiosity and irritation.

"Manky git," she muttered, sponging tea off her clothes as best she could. "Where's he off to in such a hurry?"

(Please review! I'm updating this story at the same time I'm writing another one, so new chapters for both may slow down a bit, but they will be posted. Thanks for reading!)


	2. Chapter 2

If We Ever Meet Again

Disclaimer: All glory to the Hypno-Toad. *blank stare*

Notes: I forgot to clear up the timeline. Should probably do that. Chapter One takes place the same day as "Rose" (S1E1). The following chapter leaps forward in time (surprise!) to just after "The Runaway Bride." This story will have a distinct lack of romance. I'm doing my best to write it like one of the specials. The Doctor has, after all, been known to bring home strays. Mucho thanks to Arcturus-Sinclair for the late-night beta reading!

Chapter Two

(About Two Years Later...)

It was a bitterly cold night and the rain would not quit. That was fine with Evelyn, it suited her mood perfectly. Her last audition had gone very poorly indeed. One of the producers had, in fact, been quite rude.

"'Lack of lead experience,'" she grumbled to herself. "How's a girl supposed to gain lead experience if no one will give her a damn part outside the chorus? I'm a singer, damnit, not a ballerina. 'Lose some weight.' I'll lose him twenty pounds of ugly unwanted fat right off his neck." Her singing had been more than adequate; better than several of the vaunted, voice-lessoned, silver spoon brats who'd showed up for the audition with the entitled air of a true prima donna. And she knew from experience that she could act circles around just about anyone, but fitting into a Size 2 costume had apparently been an unwritten requirement. The long walk home from the audition site was the perfect venue for growling out her frustrations.

The waitressing job had given way to a clerical position, which made her slightly more money and was certainly easier on her feet. She'd been able to afford some new clothes and a nicer flat. It was still tiny and not in the best part of the city, but at least it wasn't over a dive; finding urine in her doorway every morning had really gotten old. However, her singing dreams had yet to come true. She'd landed some small chorus parts, but her lack of dance experience and decidedly non-supermodel figure had hurt her chances.

So absorbed was she in her own private tribulations that she failed to notice the three sets of footsteps shadowing her own. A wolf whistle and some rude comments jolted her from her reverie. She didn't dare look over her shoulder. Best to just ignore them and hurry home. She quickened her pace, but still her pursuers dogged her. An ominous clicking sound told her switchblades were involved in whatever they had planned. Not at all an attractive prospect.

There was a train crossing up ahead. The gates were down, bells ringing, lights flashing. Evelyn made for it and darted across, just far enough ahead that the passing train blocked her from sight for a few precious seconds. A nearby alley was the only available cover. She rounded the corner at a dead run and collided with something tall and blue. The impact knocked the wind out of her, making her sit down hard on the wet pavement. Rubbing a sore shoulder, she stared up in awe at the same blue Police Box she'd seen across from the Ivy Crown two years before.

Modern art or no, shelter was shelter. Scrambling to her feet, she pounded on the door. No hinges were visible, so it must open inward. Around the corner, the crossing bells stopped ringing and the sound of pounding feet signaled an imminent end to the safety of her hiding place. With a frustrated cry strangled by clenched teeth, Evelyn put all her weight behind one last shove.

And promptly fell through the just-opened door.

"Oy, watch it!"

Evelyn shook her head to clear the flashing stars, having cracked her head on the floor, and found herself face to ankle with a tall thin fellow wearing...well, a lot of brown. Brown suit, brown tie, brown duster, tousled brown hair falling into brown eyes...all right, the trainers were a dingy shade of white, but still. And he didn't look particularly happy to see her.

"Just what do you think you're-..." Footsteps and rough shouting outside announced the arrival of her pursuers. "What?"

"Close the door!" she cried, scrambling away from the aforementioned aperture. Quick as a flash, the thin man slammed the door, then leaned on it, crossed his arms, and studied her. His brow furrowed and Evelyn couldn't help but squirm.

"Let's try that again, shall we? What are you on about, banging on doors at this hour?"

"I...I needed somewhere to hide."

"Bit of a feeble excuse, isn't it?"

"Well I wasn't exactly spoiled for choice, now was I!" Frustration, fear, and a generous dollop of pain from her aching head were swiftly brewing into a fine fit of temper. "Didn't happen to notice the three guys chasing me, did you? It was in here or in a dumpster!" It was right about then that she noticed the inside of the Police Box was generally a lot brighter than she'd expected. And not just brighter. Bigger. Warily, she turned and looked behind her. "Oh my God."

The interior was loads bigger than it should have been and could've passed for a modern art project itself. Rocky-looking pillars surrounded a platform with a metal grate floor. A sort of mushroom-shaped console rose out of the center, topped by a pillar of cloudy crystal that gave off a soft bluish glow. The soft low-level hum of machinery reached her ears.

"How is it..."

"Bigger on the inside, oh here we go." The thin fellow stepped nimbly around her and stood at the top of the ramp upon which she was sitting, hands clasped behind him. "Listen, you've had rather a nasty blow to the head. You can pretend if you like that this is all a hallucination and go home, or..."

"Or?" Evelyn wasn't entirely sure she liked the mad gleam in his eye. His brow furrowed into a frown once again and he leaned over to peer at her, squinting.

"You look familiar."

"What?"

"What's your name?"

"Evelyn." That garnered an eye roll.

"No no, your full name!"

"Alice Evelyn Graham."

Now the eyes had stopped rolling and instead were wide to match the grin that had suddenly appeared.

"Alice Graham! Oh, I have to say, such a treat, meeting you. Big fan, huge fan. Loved you in Phantom." Something about the completely blank look must've given him a clue that she had no idea what he was talking about. "Wait, it's only..." He dashed to the console and consulted a swiveling screen. "Oh, 2006. You haven't made it yet."

"Made it?" But he was off again.

"Alice Graham, in my TARDIS! What are the odds! Well, strictly speaking, they're obviously pretty good, certainly better than the odds of, say, Genghis Khan showing up in my TARDIS. Although really, that's a good thing, we didn't part on the best terms. You'd think once a man's conquered half the known world, he'd be better able to take losing at cards..."

"Excuse me!" Evelyn said, more shrilly than she meant to. She pushed herself to her feet and staggered to a nearby railing. "Would you mind awfully telling me who you are and what in the name of Margaret Thatcher's best Sunday pants is going on?"

"I'm the Doctor," replied the thin man. "And I'll thank you not to remind me of Margaret Thatcher's pants."

(Thank you for waiting patiently. Please review!)


	3. Chapter 3

**If We Ever Meet Again**

**Disclaimer**: Still don't own Doctor Who. Nope, sadly, no.

**Notes**: Forgive the long wait. TARDIS got stuck, repairs needing making. Wibbly wobbly, timey wimey...you get the idea. Enjoy!

Chapter Three

"A Doctor of what, exactly?" Evelyn asked, levering herself off the floor. The skinny chap...or the Doctor, as he seemed to insist on calling himself...rocked back and forth on his heels as he answered.

"Nothing, just The Doctor. Although looking 'round at all this, you might hazard a guess at quantum physics and nuclear engineering, I suppose." He turned, sending the tails of the duster swinging like the trailing edge of a cape, and sauntered back to the center column. "So, Alice Graham..." He turned again, hands in pockets, and leaned on the console. "What are you doing in my TARDIS?"

"Looking for a place to hide, actually." She glanced at the closed door; no sounds of the outside world came through it, the soft electronic hum drowning everything else out. "I thought..."

"Hide?" A frown creased his brow. "Hide from whom? Was someone chasing you?"

"Well, yeah, bunch of street thugs with switchblades." She dusted herself and check the bump on her head. No blood, thank goodness. For a split second, she let herself shiver, just to let go of the adrenaline.

"You all right?"

"I'm fine, just a little shook up." She glanced at the door again, feeling a foolish, but beginning to realize that she was essentially trapped inside a weird blue box that was bigger on the inside with a possible madman calling himself a doctor. Would that door even open if she tried it? "I, uh...I should be getting home."

"Oh, you'll be needing a lift then!" The manic grin was back, doing absolutely nothing to help her anxiety, accompanied by a leap to the console and much pressing of buttons and pulling of levers.

"No, really, I think I can-..."

"Too late!" The pull of a final lever sent the world tumbling. The floor seemed to lift under her feet and she grabbed onto a railing for support. Before she could even catch her breath to cry out, everything stopped. After a few seconds, Evelyn dared to crack one eye open, only to find the Doctor regarding her from a foot or so away.

"All right then?"

"All right? Are you out of your mind? What the hell was that!"

"Oh, right. Should've mentioned. TARDIS stands for Time and Relative Dimensions in Space." When her only response was a completely blank stare, he sighed the sigh of a man who's had to make the same explanation numerous times and elaborated. "Means it can travel in time and space. Any time or place in the whole of the universe, not just this planet, any planet you could name and even all the ones you couldn't."

"So...we've moved?"

"Oh yes. If I've calculated correctly, we should be just outside your flat. Well, on the same street at least. Well, the same block. Well...maybe I'd better take a look." A sick feeling crept into Evelyn's stomach briefly, but the street outside was the familiar little courtyard to which she was accustomed. "Ah, see? Safe and sound! Mind you, usually the old girl likes to take a bit of a joyride to wherever she feels like." He leaned against the doorjamb and appeared to address the machinery. "Decided to behave yourself for once, have you?"

Oh, that was just about enough of THAT. Evelyn scooted out the door as fast as she could without seeming rude.

"Hold on!" The Doctor hopped out after her. "I just wanted to say...it's been so good to meet you. Really. I'd ask for your autograph, but I don't want to seem rude."

"That's nice and all, but I'm not famous," she insisted.

"You're not famous YET," the Doctor corrected. "But you will be someday, Alice Graham. You're going to light up the great stages from here London to New York to Tokyo and back again. And all because you have the courage to keep going to one more audition."

"Which one?" she couldn't help asking.

"Ah, can't tell you that. Can't meddle too much, you see. But it's soon. It'll be on a day when you don't even feel like getting out of bed, let alone getting on a stage. But you do it anyway. And that's what makes you: you never give up. You're going to be brilliant, Alice Graham. Absolutely brilliant." That took her slightly aback. Aside from being the first bit of encouragement she'd heard in ages, he spoke with such sincerity that she couldn't help believing him.

"Oh. Well...thank you." She fumbled for a minute, unlocking her front door to buy time. What exactly does one say to a prognosticating madman with a flying Police Box? "Would you like to come in for a cup of tea?" He raised one eyebrow in exactly the same dubious fashion she herself had done more than once. "I do mean just a cup of tea. Least I can do since you gave me a lift home."

"Well, why not. Best I should stick around anyway, just in case."

"In case of what?" Because that didn't sound ominous at all.

"Do you have a nice oolong or are you one for those herbal tea things?" He was striding past her now and into the tiny flat, leaving her to dash after him and pray that she'd remembered to pick up anything she wouldn't want a guest seeing. Fortunately, the place was clean enough. The Doctor wandered a bit, examining the various things she'd tacked up on the walls while she filled the kettle and dug out the tea and some mugs.

"Out of oolong at the moment. Assam all right?"

"Assam's fine, thanks. Where's this?" He was pointing to a collage of photos.

"Oh that. That's home, back in the States."

"Oh that's right, you're an American," he said, as if he'd just recalled something obvious.

"Yup. Born and raised less than twenty miles from Lake Erie. Constant lake-effect snow in the winter. Drifted all the way up to the second story windows one year." They'd gone sledding from the porch roof for half an hour before her Dad had found them out.

"And this one?"

"I moved to Philadelphia after college to try and start my singing career. It was really slow going. Right as I got there, the economy took a nosedive and nobody wanted to hire me. Then I came here with a girlfriend for vacation and decided maybe it was time for another change of scenery."

"Trans-Atlantic is a pretty long way to go for a change of scenery, isn't it?"

"Oh, I love it here. Sure, it's been a little rough, but this is a great city, especially for a history buff like me. And the last two years here have been absolutely insane. I mean, I'm here, living in London, watching history being made, and I absolutely love it."

"Yeah," the Doctor said, with another big smile. "Me too." The kettle whistled, spoiling the reverie, and Evelyn dashed back into the kitchen.

"I suppose you'll be wanting this to go then."

"Well, I s'pose I could stay a bit longer, just to make sure you're all safely squared away."

"Honestly Doctor, I'm in my own apartment," Evelyn said, pouring hot water into the teapot with a couple of teabags. "I don't see what could possibly-..."

"SHH! Don't say that!"

Evelyn froze, mouth open in mid-phrase. "What?"

"Don't ever say 'what could possibly go wrong.' Don't ever ever say that. Because that's always the cue for something to go horribly, horribly wrong!"

"Um, okay. I think you're confusing a London apartment with a horror movie. Mind you, some days there's not much difference, but still. And besides, you said it yourself."

The Doctor winced and frowned. "I did, didn't I. Bloody hell..."

Right on cue, something started rattling in the kitchen cupboard. Evelyn jumped backward as the cabinet flew off its' hinges, barely missing her head and making a sizeable dent in the opposite wall. From the shadowy depths, something round and metallic rolled onto the counter and began to beep ominously.

"Doctor, what the hell is that thing!" Spikes suddenly protruded from the metal surface and the pace of the beeping sound increased.

"That," the Doctor said, shoving Evelyn toward the door, " is why we never ask what could go wrong! Move!"

The two of them barreled into the hall just as an explosion ripped through the apartment behind them.


End file.
